


First Losers

by Vexed_Wench



Series: Kain Fest for nochick_fics [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Angst, Community: help_japan, M/M, Relationship of Convenience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:12:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1297723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexed_Wench/pseuds/Vexed_Wench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kain And Russell struggle with their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Losers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nochick_fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nochick_fics/gifts).



Another nameless seedy motel room that’s a perfect reflection of what we’ve become and what we’re doing. It’s the perfect place for us to break our word and wrap each other in lies again. We swore last time would be the last time we did this. As I got closer to the door I couldn’t help but wonder why we voiced that obvious lie. 

Who could it hurt, we asked one another before our first drunken encounter. We are both single men, no need to worry about cheating on anyone. Just a little fantasy role-playing is all it is. Some people like to dress up and pretend to be something else. You had a point there, how many bad porn movies had a pizza guy or handyman in them.

The problem was that we never imagined how badly we would hurt each other playing this game. We should run screaming from each other when we had the willpower. I wonder if we’ll ever admit we played with fire until it burned away our resolve and left our souls in ashes.

Oh dear, God not fire, that is what lead me here in the first place, standing outside yet another no-tell motel door ready to walk in and sacrifice the ashes as well.

I know you are waiting for me, you always get there first. You have less to do after all, I like to be slick and ready for action when I walk in. All you have to do is get the room. I am sure that takes no more work than shedding your clothes and working your dick to a nice hard state for me.

I don’t even get a hello before I find myself splayed out on the mattress. We both suck at small talk, we learned that the hard way. It just killed our fantasy to easily. You have his smirk and attitude, but not his voice. His voice drips like honey and leaves me hard and panting, yours just doesn't. I would feel bad except I know you feel the same way. I just can't pull off the fuck you, asshole routine while you are buried balls deep inside me. It is sad, for two men who claim not to be the heartless bastards, we sure do find pleasure in hurting each other.

You turn the light off before I can even get my foot in the door. We had to admit the light was almost as much of a mood killer as talking. We tell each other it's better, sexier and hotter in the dark. Neither one of us wants visual proof of how pathetic we are. We don’t want to see that we are with each other. We want nothing that screams the truth, the harsh truth of us being the second choice, stand in, or a convenient fuck to each other. We tell ourselves better to be here then pinning home alone for them.

It’s a sad truth that’s also a pathetic lie that we hold onto, repeat and embrace as our actions destroy our souls. 

I have to wonder if fucking you is worth all of this? I know I added as many conditions as you did as we went along. I have to wonder if your cock is worth the trouble. It must be, I keep coming back for more.

You are enough like him, that it was a thrill to be under you. It is the same reason you are always ready to fuck me. You love to pretend I am your ideal crush. He would be perfect except he won't give you the time of day. Lucky for you I will. I shouldn't, I should walk away. I should turn around and go home. We should put an end to this self destructive thing we have.

Maybe next week I won't show. Maybe by then we will have admitted that this sick game is not doing either of us any good. If you want him, you should make a fucking move on Ed. He isn't the hotheaded kid he once was.

I should follow my advice and at least let Mustang know how I feel. Who am I kidding I can't even call him Roy in my own head. How pathetic does that make me?

Russell what the fuck are we doing, and how do we stop?

I should turn around and leave. 

But when I get the nerve to walk away, our combined desperation just pulls me in again.


End file.
